


Black Friday: Friday, November 24th

by ChaosDragon (PlotWitch)



Series: Home for the Holidays [4]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-30
Updated: 2010-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlotWitch/pseuds/ChaosDragon
Summary: Danny has always been told that it's the worst shopping day of the year. This year it's going to give overkill a whole new meaning.
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Sam Manson
Series: Home for the Holidays [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/842901
Kudos: 13





	Black Friday: Friday, November 24th

Mornings were one of the few things in Tucker's life that he actually made it a goal to hate. They were too bright, they were too loud, and they were too early. This morning was a little different though, and Tucker decided as he lay in his bed, eyes focused on the blurry darkened ceiling, that he hated this morning more than regular mornings. After all, it was still dark. And it would be so for hours more yet.

The alarm on his nightstand started beeping at him again and Tucker swung a hand out blindly to silence it, curbing (not for the first time) the burning desire to grab the alarm clock and throw it at the wall. He could almost believe that Danny would sympathize with him, if it weren't for the fact that Tucker knew Danny was looking forward to today. Sort of, in an extremely perverse way. Sure, it was early, but Danny would be ecstatic because he was spending time with Sam.

Tucker just knew they were perfect together. It was just kind of gross to have to see his best friends making out.

He'd set the damned clock for 3:40 so he could hit the snooze button at least twice. That was two nine-minute sets plus whatever time it took him to hear the clock buzzing at him in the first place. He turned his head to the side to see the display. Even without his glasses he could make out the fuzzy, wobbling shapes of the two-inch tall numbers. 4:03. In the morning. Oh, he hated mornings.

And he sure as hell didn't want to get up. No, Tucker would rather stay ensconced in the warm cocoon of his blankets sleeping off the tryptophan that was still in his system. (Who could blame him for snagging a drumstick and enough sliced turkey to make two sandwiches when he got home? After all, his mom's turkey was always the best.) The clock flickered over to 4:04 while he thought longingly of simply staying in bed.

“It's not even a school day,” he muttered to the darkness.

Damn Danny. Damn Sam. Damn the biggest shopping day of the damned year.

In the end Tucker pulled himself from the warmth of his blankets, shivering at the chill in the air as he flipped his lights on and headed for his computer. Glasses found (next to the computer where he always left them) and on, Tucker unplugged his phone and settled down to the inevitable and unenviable task of waking his friends up. The way he figured it, they'd still be cutting it pretty close at the mall anyway. People had been lining up since yesterday afternoon—his mom and his aunt both were talking about it as they basted the turkey, how they wouldn't be trying to get a spot in the already formed lines and how glad they were that Christmas shopping was already finished in the Foley house.

 _Good for them,_ Tucker thought uncharitably as he pressed the speed dial for Sam. Of the two, Sam would be easier to wake up. And he might even be able to convince her to call Danny. Her ring tone would be a beacon to the halfa's ears, unlike Tucker's. Tucker yawned, the phone to his ear. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up playing Doomed. Lack of sleep would be detrimental to his shopping mood. So was the fact that Sam wasn't answering and he was sent to voice mail.

With a sleepy shrug he tried Danny. Twice. Seven minutes later he was cursing them both as he realized that, nine attempts later, they obviously weren't going to pick up. He frowned, irritation waking him up better than anything else would. He dialed Sam's number again and settled back with the phone to his ear and his hands fumbling, still limp with sleep, as he tried to tie the laces of his boots. It rang through once, twice, and just as the third ring began and Tucker was sure that he'd go to voice mail on the fourth, the other end clicked into life.

“Hello?” a very fuzzy voice came through. He could almost feel the jaw-cracking yawn from across town, but Tucker was too surprised to even acknowledge his own sudden desire to yawn along.

“Danny?” Tucker managed to get out. “What are you doing answering Sam's phone at four in the morning?”

“The phone was ringing; answered it,” was the sleep-slurred retort. “What do you want?”

“Wake up call,” was Tucker's stammered rejoinder, his bootlaces forgotten and his annoyance of being up well before the sun gone. “We're supposed to be to the mall in half an hour to hit the Black Friday sales because _somebody_ ,” and Tucker saw no reason to include himself in this accusation despite the fact that he had nothing bought himself, “waited until the last minute to do their holiday shopping. But what are you doing answering Sam's phone?”

There was a scrabbling against the phone; Danny must have been looking at it which made Tucker's suspicions start dying a little. It was entirely possible that, given the interesting Thanksgiving the three of them had had the night before, Sam left her cell in Danny's room. It certainly wouldn't be the first time one of them had mislaid something at one another's house—Tucker had absolutely no doubt in his mind that it wouldn't be the last.

“Fuck,” was the muffled curse that came through the phone, and then the rustling stopped. Tucker opened his mouth to tell Danny that he could draw the short straw to go wake Sam up (he did have the ability to fly and slip right through Sam's walls after all, wherein Tucker would be forced to wake her parents up—a thought at which he shuddered convulsively) when Tucker heard something that he was positive he wasn't expecting.

A blanket was clearly heard rustling, and then the squeaking of a mattress, and _then_ the very sleep muzzed but very appreciative voice of Sam: “It's too early, Danny. Let's go back to sleep.”

“Tucker called. I thought I was answering my phone.”

Tucker thought that Danny might sound more awake now that he realized that whatever had happened, the cat was certainly out of the bag. It almost made him wish that he'd placed book with himself, even if he knew that technically it was unethical. So was betting. Especially about his best friends and their love life. But damn it, he knew it was a sure thing. And, well, he was right.

“Oh no.” Even Sam was wide-awake now, and Tucker hesitated to stay on the phone. It might, he thought, be a wiser thing just to hang up now while he was ahead. “Danny, you answered _my_ phone, didn't you?”

The phone was dropped again as Tucker waited, all the while debating the wisdom of remaining on the line. The only noises he could hear were muffled, at least until something tipped Sam's cell over so the mouthpiece was facing up. The muffled giggles that he heard from Sam nearly made him pale in unease, as did her admonishment to Danny, “Not now, we have to get dressed and go. And—on my god, Tucker!”

 _Oh hell,_ he thought, and Tucker pulled his own cell away from his ear so the ensuing voice of doom from Sam wouldn't rupture his eardrums.

Sam's voice was sharp when she picked up the phone, but Tucker was grateful that that was all. After all, verbal lacerations were better than bleeding deafness from his ears. “Not a single word, Tucker.” Then her breath came out in a decidedly un-Sam-like way, and she told him, her voice hitching mid-sentence, “We'll be late.”

She hung up on him, and Tucker thought that it was possibly the nicest thing she'd ever done for him. It also meant that Tucker so had to have a long, uninterrupted, in depth conversation with Danny.

Though the ringing of the cell phone and the ensuing sort of conversation definitely killed the pleasant dreams had been having, waking up next to a warm body was a vast improvement to how Danny normally woke up. After a moment's consideration Danny did have to revise that thought; he rather thought that waking up next to _Sam's_ warm body was what made the difference. Waking up next to Tucker sure as hell wouldn't lead to the kissing and snuggling and the—

He stopped that particular thought dead in its tracks. They were already late and in for some very, very heavy teasing and mockery from Tucker. It was just after five and they were only now arriving to the mall. Danny had offered to fly them, but Sam had insisted that the trunk space afforded by her car would be a necessity if he and Tucker did their shopping properly. Besides, Tucker already knew that something had happened and being this late could hardly come as a mortal shock.

If anything, Tucker would demand details, though Danny was careful not to tell that particular vagary of the male bond to his girlfriend. He treasured all of his male bits where they were and he was sure Tucker felt the same, and Sam could sure as hell get moody and downright vicious when the mood took her. Granted, after last night and this morning Danny was positive that Sam would be patently un-vicious all day long.

“And where did you spend _your_ night, Danny?” Tucker greeted him with a sly smile and an appraising glance at Sam. Danny could almost hear the sound of his pleasant mental soundtrack coming to a screeching halt at Tucker's lack of subtlety.

The reflex of self-preservation (and the ingrained habit of trying to deflect anything that might make Sam needlessly slaughter a member of the trio) had Danny warningly starting to silence his friend. “Tuck,” he began, but Sam beat him to the actual punch of reaction in a way that was so unexpected that it was all Danny could do to not let his jaw drop in a full on gape.

“Shut up, Tucker,” Sam drawled as she nestled herself against Danny's body sinuously, much as she had more than once the night before. Even as Danny started to flush red along with Tucker, Sam was smirking at the dark skinned boy superiorly, the expression edged with annoyance and—if Danny dared to think it—what looked like the faint flush of desire riding the dark amethyst of her eyes.

“You're just jealous because you had to wake up alone,” Sam informed Tucker haughtily, her eyes flashing in a glare. “Besides,” she continued flippantly, “just because he spent the night doesn’t mean that anything happened. Not everyone is as puerile as you are.”

Oh, this really wasn't going to end well, Danny realized rather quickly. The instinct that helped make him into Danny Phantom—the need to protect his friends above all else—made Danny tuck Sam securely under his left arm and snag Tucker around the shoulders with his right. “So, what do you say we take a chill pill and brave the mall crowds?” he chirped out brightly as he began forcibly dragging his two best friends towards hell on earth.

Sam humphed from beneath his arm but Tucker gave Danny a little smirk as he let himself be dragged into the crowds. “For your info I'm not jealous. Gratified, yes, jealous no. I have my sights on a lovely lady, as a matter of fact.”

“I don't think your PDA qualifies as a 'lovely lady' by any stretch of the imagination, Tucker,” Sam shot at him as Danny tried not to crack up. He'd seen Tucker treating his PDA like a date more often than he was comfortable with, so Sam's snarking wasn't as far off the mark as a random passerby would take it.

Tucker merely flipped Sam off to which she stuck her tongue out. “Bethany Moore is hardly my PDA.”

“Bethany Moore?” Sam started, but Danny stopped the soon-to-be full-fledged argument before it could begin.

“Hey, look, a store!” The argument died as the three virtuously tried to shop without dying tragically.

He had a list, as he usually did for holiday shopping. Danny had hemmed and hawed over it for almost the entire month of November as he tried to narrow it down to things that he thought his family and friends might like as well as find useful. Or, in his dad's case, enjoy them for the finite life it held. In the end he'd finally decided to let the retail purgatory of Black Friday shop for him, his list finally just a generalized idea of what he was looking for. Besides, between the money he'd been saving and the excellent (though dangerous to shop for) sales that Black Friday always had, Danny figured he could do some serious gift giving and maybe even have a little cash left over for himself.

Sam had already managed to get into a growling match with a middle-aged woman over her place in line as they'd stopped into one of the dozens of clothing stores in the mall. Sam had made them wait up front as she dove in, a fact for which Danny was grateful for since he didn't really feel like challenging a bunch of women in the Aerie store just because Sam wanted to get some pajamas and comfortable under things. He didn't really mind standing with Tucker, the two managed to catch up on the Bethany Moore topic without Sam around to snark _and_ , and Danny considered this the real bonus, he'd managed to convey to Tucker that assumptions on his and Sam's private life would be met with hostile force.

Though he was still thrown by the whole Bethany Moore thing. She wasn't another Paulina (thank god) but she was still fairly popular and well liked and, well, pretty. Nothing on Sam, which Danny considered a minus in the grand scheme of things. But then, it was Tucker crushing on her and not him, and thus a moot point. She was a co-captain on the drill team and was in the top ten percent of the senior class. Bethany Moore was virtually a complete opposite of Tucker, not that he'd say that Tucker, and besides, they were both ascribing to the school that these were the kinds of things that happened when you got popular. Sort of.

Sam, once her under things were bought and her growling match won, dragged the two boys back out into the press of insane shoppers. Their next stop was the Radio Shack, where Tucker was picking up a few things for a gift for Valerie—upgrades to one of the weapons he'd kept from the mishap on Halloween. Valerie had admired the newer model ectogun that Maddie had designed, and Tucker had liberated, so Tucker had decided to build one for Val from the schematics of his own. He was attempting to make it compatible with her suit. Danny wasn't even asking how Tucker knew enough about her suit to make it compatible.

They made another stop in one of the upper-class jewelry stores where Danny and Tucker got pointed 'you don't belong here' stares before the employees began fawning all over Sam. It made Danny frown a little and Tucker thumb his nose at the snooty salespeople.

“Do you think it's just because they know we can't afford a place like this? Or do we really have some vibe that says 'can't afford this stuff' dangling over our heads?” Tucker asked Danny as Sam pointed at a necklace and then a set of cufflinks, both encrusted in diamonds.

Danny only shrugged, trying not to feel self-conscious about holding Sam's bag from Aerie. “I think it's just because they're assholes who think they're better than everyone else. I mean, look. This is probably the only store in the entire mall that doesn't have a sale going on today.”

“Or ever,” Tucker decided. “There's no one in here but us. That's just weird.”

“Alright, we're done, we can leave,” Sam said loudly as she hurried over to them, the expensive looking black bag overflowing with tissue paper. She tucked the telltale jeweler's bag out of sight in the bag that Danny was holding before taking it from him and giving the people behind the glass counters a narrow glance. “Mom and Dad both now have ridiculously expensive and overpriced presents. Remind me not to come back here till next year.”

With a toothy grin Danny sauntered out behind his girlfriend as Tucker made sure to leave handprints on the display cases. They made it past two shops before Danny stopped their progress with a surprised, “Oh!” Without pausing he grabbed Tucker and Sam both and dove into the cross-mall traffic, weaving his way to a small bookstore on the other side of the row of stores.

“It smells like old books,” Tucked commented as they stepped through the old-fashioned wood entry. Even as Tucker listed the numerous faults of books that were, by and far, older than the three of them, Sam appreciated the fact that Danny wasn't limiting his gifts to the normal gamut of jewelry, CD's and DVD's.

“A Shakespeare collection? Who's it for? Jazz?” she finally asked as Danny met her in front of one of the rows of books, a stack of five thick, leather bound books in his hands.

“Mmm, no,” Danny said as he reached the checkout and lay the books carefully on the counter. “Mr. Lancer. Kind of a thank you for putting up with all my crap for the last four years. These are just like the ones that got destroyed when Vortex flooded the school this spring; Ghost Writer found them for me.”

“You still feel bad about that?” Sam asked him, surprised. “I thought we'd gotten past that—it wasn't your fault, Danny, and it would've been a lot worse if you hadn't stopped him there.”

Danny shrugged, the gesture starting to become a habitual response to guilt and remorse due to his particular line of work. “I know. But Mr. Lancer was really unhappy about his books getting trashed. I mean, I saw him cry.”

Sam could only smile and lean up to give him a soft kiss. “And that's one of the reasons why I adore you so. Get the books and meet us out front, I'm taking pity on Tucker. He's practically catatonic now.”

Danny chuckled and nodded, taking his own chance to give her another kiss, then shooed her to Tucker so that the technogeek would have some semblance of a functioning brain when Danny was done. Besides, he was sure he didn't want Sam about when he actually bought the books. Ghost Writer was the one who'd found them for him, and Ghost Writer was the one he'd be paying for them. The little bookstore was just a neutral place to meet outside of the Ghost Zone.

“Smooth, Phantom,” said the man behind the counter. Danny arched an eyebrow, a denial on the tip of his tongue before he really looked.

“Overshadowing humans wasn't exactly part of the deal,” Danny pointed out as he recognized the spectral trace around the human. “I should walk out of here right now.”

“Ah, ah,” Ghost Writer ticked his fingers back and forth. “You walk out that door and you've broken our agreement. I got those damned books for you—had to put up with all sorts of inane poetry from 'ol Will before he'd give them up. You owe me.”

“And the overshadowing doesn't put you outside of the bounds?” Danny challenged, annoyed that he was even stooping to deals with ghosts, especially this one.

Ghost Writer shrugged the human's shoulders for him. “Not in the least. You never specified that I couldn’t, and I certainly wasn't going to point out to you that I could. Now. The agreement.”

Danny took a quick glance around before silently holding out his hand. Like a rising tide of mist his ice powers swirled in his palm before settling into the shape of a pyramid. It was solid as a rock for the moment and Danny knew that once he was done it wouldn't ever melt. Sam still had the ice crystal he'd given her after Undergrowth's near successful invasion back at the beginning of their sophomore year, and he'd been much less proficient with his ice powers then than he was now.

“And the fire,” Ghost Writer prompted.

Danny rolled his eyes and closed his fist about the trinket. When he opened it green ectofire flickered within it, trapped by the unmelting ice and just as cold. “Alright, there, you have it,” he said shortly as he dropped it into Ghost Writer's hands. “Now finish your part of the bargain, because I don't really fancy being arrested for stealing these.”

“Go, go,” Ghost Writer shooed. “They're not even in the inventory. I brought them in just for this.”

“If I get arrested, I'm going to spend a great deal of time making you suffer for it, got it?” Danny's temper was staring to flare a little at Ghost Writer's seemingly unconcerned manner.

It was Ghost Writer's turn to roll his eyes, overshadowed as they were, before he grabbed a receipt pad from next to the register and scribbled a general sale onto it. “Alright, fine, there's a receipt for you. Satisfied? Hell, take a bag while you're at it.”

Ghost Writer obligingly held the bag while Danny carefully slid the old books into it followed by the receipt. “Alright, deal's done. What do you need that thing for, anyway?” he asked, nodding at the crystal now flickering sullenly on the counter.

“Well you're not the only one with a girlfriend, now are you, Phantom?” Ghost Writer told the young halfa smugly as he slipped out of the human salesman and disappeared through the ceiling, crystal in hand.

The man blinked once, twice, and then, “Can I help you?”

Danny just shook his head and hoisted his bag. “You've already helped me more than you know.” Then he hurried out of the store, bags in hand.

“Do we really need to try all of these?” Tucker asked as Danny forced him into yet another massage seat. Not that he was complaining, for the most part, but there were a couple that had really felt like they were bruising his back. And, of course, he was still wishing he were back in bed—it was just plain cruel to sit him down into one of the good ones only to rip him back out just as he was starting to drift off.

“Shut up, Tuck,” Sam called fondly as she levered herself back in the full massage chair. She'd sat down in it within minutes of Danny coercing them into the Brookstone and hadn't offered to help Danny find a massage seat.

Danny was a little more patient, though Tucker thought it was because the halfa, firmly ensconced in yet another massage seat, currently looked like he was in heaven. “Yes, we do, Tuck, I was to get one of these for Jazz. She’s stressed and needs to relax.”

“We could find her a boyfriend,” Tucker muttered as one of the probes in his current chair jabbed him in the bone. He winced as his back arched away from it in reflex.

“Too late,” was Sam’s singsong rejoinder.

Tucker arched a brow as he dragged himself out of the massage seat knowing that he would blatantly refuse to get in another. “Jazz has a boyfriend? And Danny doesn’t know?”

There was a snort from Danny though his eyes were firmly closed as he tried to enjoy the remainder of his massage. Trust Danny to get a good chair. “Danny knows,” he all but snarled, voice dripping with annoyance. “Danny is just pretending _not_ to know at Jazz’s request.”

“And for his own sanity,” Sam chimed in yet again.

The chair came to a halt and Danny leaned forward, finally opening his eyes and stretching a bit to see if all of the kinks were worked out of his back. There were two pops. When he tilted his head another one came. He gave a happy sigh. “I like this one,” he announced. “And it’s in my price range.”

Sam opened her eyes and met his with a satisfied smile. “I bet this one is way better.”

He stood with a full body stretch and no more adjusting vertebra, then examined the price tag on the massage chair Sam was sitting in. “Yeah, but it’s way out of my price range.”

“We could go half and half,” she offered.

He smiled and shook his head. “Nah, I want something she can sit in at her desk while she works. More effective that way so she can multitask.”

Sam considered it for a moment before agreeing. “Makes sense, and Jazz would appreciate the sentiment.”

“So, I can get out of this medieval torture device?” Tucker asked hopefully, escaping it before anyone said anything. “Just buy it so we can shove it in the car and get on with this hell.”

Danny only laughed at him as he inspected the various boxes before finding the right one and hefting it easily. Tucker glared at him as he gathered the two small bags he had and heading to wait with Sam as Danny stood in line.

“We’re making good time, all things considered,” Sam commented as they watched Danny slowly make his way to the register.

Tucker could only shrug, still wishing for his bed. “I could still be asleep right now.”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

He gave his best friend a sly grin. “I’m sure _you_ would say that,” he teased, ducking away with a yelp as a hand swung out to try and smack him in the head. “Sam! I’m teasing! I don’t care if you two are—”

He stopped abruptly not wanting to finish the sentence and receive the mental images vocally admitting his two friends were having sex would bring. He winced as the mental admission brought them anyway, though he was still male enough to admit that mental images of Sam weren’t as traumatizing as those of Danny. He had no designs on the girl at all, but she was really rather pretty, and friend or not, he could appreciate her legs.

“Tucker, you look like your brain just broke,” Sam told him as she tapped his shoulder.

“Heh. I think it did.”

“Oh, look,” she said brightly. “Danny’s paying. We can get out of here, finally.”

He scowled at her. “Like you weren’t enjoying monopolizing the best massage in the store.” She just smiled shamelessly.

“Where to next?” Danny asked as he dragged the box with the disassembled chair up to them.

“The car for you,” Sam instructed him. “Then we’re going to Freddie’s.”

Danny immediately leered at his girlfriend leaving Tucker to wail, “I can’t see this!”

Sam only laughed at them both. “I’m going to get Jazz something slinky to wear for her boyfriend,” she smirked, and now Danny himself was looking decidedly green.

“I can’t know that!” he cried, eyes wide and looking fairly scarred for life as he stared at Sam. She just shrugged looking far too pleased with herself.

“I can,” Tucker said with a lecherous grin, then squeaked when Danny dropped the box of chair to grab him around the neck and immediately began to noogie him.

“No drooling over my sister, Tuck,” Danny ordered as Tucker fought to get free. He managed to hook a leg around Danny’s sending them both to the floor, twisting as they both tried to get the upper hand to noogie the other.

“Boys!” Sam’s voice cut sharply through their mock threats bringing them to a grinding halt as they stared up at her.

Tucker snickered when Danny immediately let go of him and started climbing to his feet. It was too funny, especially when Danny asked hopefully, “Can I at least hope you’ll get something I can see you in?”

She didn’t even answer, just started for the exit nearest her car.

It was good that Sam was window shopping the entire way back to the other end of the mall where Frederick’s of Hollywood was. Danny was taking the chance to pause at almost every jewelry store on the way. He did make a point of flipping off the salespeople in the place Sam had shopped at before ambling across to the Mayors on the other side of the mall. If Tucker flipped them off, too, Danny couldn’t blame him. They had been asses.

He found what he was looking for at a decent price at the Zales, waiting patiently for one of the women behind the counter when Tucker crept up behind him nearly scaring him the rest of the way to death.

“It’s a little early to think about proposing, you know,” Tucker said as he leaned on the glass case next to Danny.

Danny couldn’t help the sharp laugh that made people turn to him. He ignored them giving his best friend an odd look. “Dude, do you think I don’t already know that? And I’m not looking at rings. Dumbass,” he muttered fondly.

Tucker glanced down, his mouth making an O of surprise at the case of bracelets Danny was entrenched in front of. “Oh, well. It might still be too soon to buy her a diamond bracelet.” He paused. “And I don’t think Sam wears bracelets, anyway.”

Danny shook his head and gave Tucker a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Tucker, I’m buying _my mother_ a bracelet. Not Sam. I have something in mind that I think she’ll like a lot better.”

“Like?” Tucker tried to pry, but Danny ignored him when a blond lady finally came to help him out.

Before she could even say anything, Danny pounced, saying, “I’d like to see the two carat bracelet on the right.”

It was marked down to eight hundred and change, expensive still, but that was what saving money for Christmas was for. That and Jazz had asked to get it on the gift when he’d run the idea past her over the phone. And while he had said no to Sam for good reasons, he’d said yes to Jazz out of practicality and the fact that he knew she probably hadn’t really had a lot of time to shop herself.

It was a nice piece in yellow gold, the diamonds set between simple double barred links. He thought his mom would like it and said so in an aside to Tucker before telling the saleswoman he’d take it. In a matter of minutes, it was boxed, paid for, and safely in his possession, the two friends on their way back out to try and catch up with Sam who was probably wondering where they were.

She was, but to his vast relief she already had the bag of lingerie for his sister (and he felt a little sick just thinking it) as she waited. “What were you doing?” she asked as she curiously eyed the bag.

“Bracelet for mom,” he said, pulling it out to show her.

“Nice,” was all she said as he closed it and put it away again.

He glanced around, looking for his next target store. “I wanted to stop at that chocolate place and get dad some fudge. Mom refuses to make it for him anymore since the last time she caught him eating it in the lab.”

“And there are a couple of places we can stop at in between,” Tucker added. “I need to pick something up for my folks, and for Valerie.”

“How about we split up and meet at the Santa thing in an hour?” Sam suggested.

“We could do that,” Danny agreed readily, though he was making eyes at Sam hoping she would get the unspoken message he wanted to borrow her to pick out Tucker’s gift.

When they split Tucker headed off to the north end of the mall while Danny caught his girlfriend’s arm, pulling her close for a quick kiss before grinning at her. “Let’s go get Tucker’s game,” he said. She laughed and pulled him down for another kiss.

“Mr. Fenton, you are a devious, devious man,” she informed him. “Let’s go.”

By the time the hour was up he had nearly everything else he wanted to get his hands on. Five pounds of chocolate fudge for his dad, and a pound of the peanut butter with chocolate chip fudge as well. The newest edition of Warcraft for Tucker, with Sam having picked out a new gaming keyboard for him as well. He’d picked out some random things for various relatives, mostly sticking to gift cards. Except for his grandparents, they were all getting photo albums from him already full of pictures of him and Jazz from childhood on.

That had been her idea, but Danny thought it was a good one and volunteered to pick out the albums if Jazz took care of picking out photos and making copies. He’d gotten a set of kitchen knives for Aunt Alicia. She was really fond of sharp things, he thought it was probably a safe gift to get her. And practical, too.

After he and Sam had picked out the game for Tucker they’d separated again, which saved him from one of two things: trying to come up with an excuse to shop without her again, which would look really suspicious, or making another trip back to the mall, which Danny was ready to compare to a trip to hell.

He took the chance to stop and pick her out two things, one of them being a necklace that he thought she might like, and the other the thing he’d been planning on since he’d seen it at Halloween. Sam hadn’t, which he was grateful for, otherwise she might have already bought it. But the it that he was so pleased with was a snow globe. And not just a snow globe. A _gothic_ snow globe.

And he had plans for it. If he were a little more artistic, he’d have even more plans for it, but that was more Sam’s forte than his. It was enough that he was going to try customizing the little house inside it. it was going to take some hard work and careful use of intangibility, but he thought he could manage that.

By the time the hour had passed he was the last one back to Santa’s little workshop in the center of the mall, but he was pleased with his haul. The decision was made to stow the last of their purchases in Sam’s car safely under lock and microchipped key before they headed to the food court to find some food. And with the customized car alarm that he and Tucker had adapted from the GAV, Danny had no fear of leaving what was easily a couple thousand dollars’ worth of things in it.

Just thinking about it made him smirk a little evilly. Anyone, human _or_ ghost, who tried getting into Sam’s car without the proper key was going to get a hell of an ectoplasmic shock. Odds were the culprit would still be unconscious hours later. It was great.

Things would be fine while they ate and relaxed a little.

“So I got Dani a gift card to the bookstore,” Tucker said as he shoved his heart attack on a bun in his mouth. Danny almost snickered at Sam’s disgusted look, but she bit back her nasty anti-meat comment.

“I got her something, too,” Sam added. “Gift cards to a few clothing stores. I thought she’d like that.”

He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for being surprised that they’d gotten his clone Christmas gifts. He settled for being pleasantly surprised and gratified that he had such amazing friends. Of course, Sam’s sidelong glance made him shift uneasily.

“Did you get her something?” Sam asked as she picked at her salad, selecting a tomato with her fork and dipping it into a puddle of dressing before eating it.

Danny’s uncomfortable shift became more noticeable. “Yeah,” he admitted uneasily, his eyes firmly down staring at his own food. He had the niggling feeling that he looked guilty, but he couldn’t help it.

Tucker looked over at him, a strange mix of ketchup, mustard and barbecue sauce leaking from his triple meat burger. “So what’d you get her?”

“Do we really have to talk about this here?” Danny asked, glancing around furtively as if he expected someone to appear brandishing handcuffs at him.

Sam frowned a little, her fork now pointed straight at him. “You did get her something, right?” she asked, her head tilted a little as she observed him.

“Of course, I did!” he exclaimed and then lowered his voice as he admitted, “It’s just not quite legal.”

“What’d you do?” his best friends demanded together in an eerie echo.

“Quiet,” he ordered them. “I got her papers to make her legal, alright?”

It only took Tucker a moment longer than Sam to understand what he’d just said, but he felt a little less guilty at the two very approving smiles they gave him. He nodded a little, relieved at their support. He hated admitting, even if it was just to himself that he’d been worried at all that they might think he’d done something wrong. He knew he hadn’t, deep down. Dani deserved a chance at a real life. This just made it easier for him to assuage his own guilt over what he’d done and how he did it.

“She’s going to be set until she’s out of school and able to support herself,” he explained as quietly as he could over the noise of the food court. In all truth, the noise was probably a better safeguard than any other he could ask for except complete seclusion.

“How’s that?” Tucker asked, his burger forgotten for the moment. “Did you go to the mafia?” he asked eagerly.

Danny laughed loudly at that. “God, no, Tuck. Besides, do you think there’s any mafia in Amity Park?”

“No,” was the sheepish response right before Tucker’s face turned shrewd. “But I just know you didn’t get that stuff here. You went where? Chicago?”

He nodded, leaning back. “Yeah, I went to a guy in Chicago. But the papers are good. Full background, social security number, medical and school records. And a nice bank account, too. I stuck with the same story from Thanksgiving, too. She is now the only legal progeny of Theo and Ari Fenton.”

“I have a question, Danny,” Sam said over the noise. “Papers like that cost. Where’d you get the money?” Her tone wasn’t accusing, thank god. He probably would have wilted under it if the tone had been. But she certainly was concerned.

And, honestly, the how was where the real guilt came from. Not from the what or why.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a pitiful thin sound. He flushed and closed it again, then cleared his throat. This time his voice was steadier. “I, ah, got the money from Vlad.”

“Vlad paid for all of it?” Sam asked skeptically, a matching look on Tucker’s face.

“Um, yeah.” He tried for bright and self-assured. It was a really pitiful attempt though, and he winced visibly as Sam saw through it.

“Danny,” she said with a sweet edge. “What did you do?”

He pushed his tray with his sandwich back and leaned on the table, his face in his hands. “Breaking and entering with a side of grand theft,” he muttered, his words muffled by his hands.

Tucker choked on his drink and Sam nearly shrieked, “You did what?”

He groaned and peered at her through his fingers. “Sam, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“You could go to jail for that, Danny!”

“I could go to jail for giving Dani a life, too,” he shot back.

“Oh my god,” she moaned. “My boyfriend is a felon!”

Tucker’s eyes were darting back and forth between them. “Sam, it’s not really that bad,” he offered. “Vlad can spare it. And if I know Danny, Vlad probably doesn’t even know it’s missing.”

“Thank you, Tucker, for that vote of confidence.” His appetite was gone now.

Silence reigned for a moment as Danny sat there feeling miserable. Tucker, for his part, looked concerned but didn’t add anything else. Sam, however, sighed deeply and set her fork down. She looked unhappy, but Danny didn’t know what else to say. She was already angry with him, and there wasn’t anything that he could to change that.

Technically she had every right to be angry. He knew he shouldn’t blame her for that, he had broken the law and risked some serious consequences. But Danny couldn’t regret doing it.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, breaking into his line of thought making him look at her surprised.

“What?” Danny said. Tucker echoed him a moment later.

She favored them both with a glare. “I said I was sorry. You’re right, Vlad won’t miss it and you’re doing something really great for Dani. I was just surprised. It doesn’t seem like something you would do at first.”

“But I’d do it on second thought?” Danny asked, hoping he didn’t sound annoyed. He wasn’t, just curious at his girlfriend’s opinion.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not so much what you did that makes me get it. It’s why you did it. That’s just so you.”

Danny gave her a little smile. “Thank you seems like the appropriate respo—”

He was cut off abruptly by hands shoving him roughly from behind. Danny’s hands jerked to the edge of the table in an attempt to brace himself, but the only thing it did was force the table forward spilling Sam’s salad into her lap and making Tucker’s fries fly. “What the hell,” Danny exclaimed, rearing out of his seat and turning quickly enough that the hands reaching for him missed.

“You’re a lying little bastard,” Dash Baxter spat at him, reaching out to grab him once more.

Danny danced back out of his reach, barely missing the bags of a shopper at one of the tables nearest him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dash. Just leave me alone.”

Dash’s eyes narrowed and Danny noticed how hollow the other senior’s face looked, the shadows that darkened the flesh under his bloodshot eyes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Dash said harshly. “About you and Paulina.”

Danny was too afraid of what Dash might do if he chanced a glance at Sam. If he had he would have seen the startled look just before she began frowning. As it was, he heard her push her chair back and bolt up. If Danny knew Sam, she was about to start insulting Dash. Hastily he waved a hand at her trying to tell her to stay out of it. He needn’t have, Dash beat her by lunging for him again.

Danny ducked and darted forward, spinning so that he was facing Dash again with Sam and Tucker behind him. He was right; Sam was on her feet looking royally pissed off. But at Dash, thank god, and not him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny shot out. He was almost shaking with anger now, and a little fear because he was afraid Sam would say something and become a target for Dash’s anger. She was strong, capable too, but he didn’t like her chances against the jock at the level of anger he was exhibiting.

Dash snarled, baring his teeth. “You and Paulina,” he bit out. “You were stepping out with her and we both know it.”

“Whoa. Just whoa.” Danny’s hands came up, palms facing Dash in a warding off gesture. “I never went anywhere with Paulina. And I certainly wasn’t messing around with her.”

He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the mere thought of it and nearly groaned when he realized that Dash would probably take the blush as guilt, an unconscious admission that he _had_ done something with Paulina. But he couldn’t just come out and tell the other boy that he was turning brick red because, up until last night, he’d been a virgin. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to announce in the middle of the food court that his first time had been with Sam Manson, that it had been amazing, and that he loved her more than ever now.

By now the food court had become much quieter, the result of shoppers nervously watching them dancing around each other. The impending fight was the center of attention. Which made it that much worse when Dash opened his mouth next.

“How long were you fucking my girlfriend?”

“Oh, shit,” Danny barely had the time to breathe, because in the next second Dash was lunging forward, catching him around the waist and barreling them both into a table that was quickly vacated by screaming shoppers.

“Dash,” Danny grunted as a fist took him by surprise in the side. The air left his lungs in a painful rush, but Danny kept his grip on Dash holding him close so he couldn’t put the full force of his body behind the next blow. It came, nearly as strong as the first hit, and in the same spot.

He could hear Sam shrieking for Dash to stop, and Tucker telling Sam to wait. His eyes flew to his friends and the rush of relief that Tucker had hold of Sam, keeping her from barging into the fight, nearly made him weak.

He should do something, but Danny couldn’t figure out what. He could fight, but god, he didn’t want to fight Dash. Even as stupid as he thought the other boy was being, he couldn’t contemplate hurting him when he was sure he was already hurting enough.

He made the split-second decision to let go of Dash as he tried to make another attempt at beating Danny into submission, twisting to the side as the fist came at him. It missed and Dash went off balance. His own weight worked against him and Dash hit the tiles.

He almost smiled in triumph; the current disaster averted. Of course, mall security would be coming, and that was going to be another kind of disaster. And it was entirely possible that his ribs were fractured, because they hurt a little too much to just be bruised. But still, if that was the worst of this, Danny would be satisfied.

Dash stayed down, breathing heavily on the floor. Danny turned to Sam, ready to retreat, regroup, and hope that it was over. Then, it happened.

The crash from above triggered the instinct to duck and glass rained down amidst newer screams, some of them just fear, others laced with pain. Danny’s own strangled cry joined the latter as glass hit him, breaking across the arms he had cradling his head where he crouched, sharp edges cutting them and sliding down. He could feel a few larger ones hit his back. The sensation of them slicing through his shirt and into the skin there hurt so badly he could only hiss, any other sounds stolen by it.

The basso roar that followed the raining glass and sharp-edged pain hurt nearly as much, echoing in his eardrums.

He shuddered suddenly. He knew that sound, and as frightened as he was to look up, he couldn’t stop himself. If any more glass came, he’d get hurt, but he also had a much better chance of healing than any of the normal people still in the line of fire. And… it was his duty to protect them.

Afternoon sunlight glinting off of red scales nearly blinded him. Danny blinked against the sunlight as cold trickled down his spine. It wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t. They’d fought this thing before, they’d fucking killed it. But the giant red dragon mantling at him was certainly alive as it roared again, long serpentine tongue flicking out around long, gleaming white teeth.

“I’ve been looking for you, little manling,” it hissed at him.

Danny didn’t even pause to think before he was on his feet and running. “Sam, Tuck,” he cried. “Get these people out of here!”

Now all he had to do was keep the dragon busy while everyone else got to safety, then he could go ghost. Right, easy. He was so screwed. He never even saw the massive clawed hand before it hit him.

She didn’t have the chance to cry out a warning before the dragon hit Danny with enough force to send him flying halfway across the food court. He probably would have gone further if it hadn’t been for a massive stone plinth full of fake tree. It cracked when he hit it and Sam screamed in reaction. When he didn’t get up, didn’t even move from the awkward position he’d fallen in, Sam settled for panicking.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she chanted softly, eyes glued to the still form of her boyfriend. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen—he was the hero, he could beat everything.

Except for a hunk of stone.

“Sam,” Tucker said, his hand on her arm. She didn’t hear him, the fear that Danny was dead or dying making her sick to her stomach. There was a harsh shake from her arm, and she turned slightly glazed eyes to Tucker, who shook her once more with enough force to rattle her teeth.

“Come _on_ , Sam,” he ordered her. “Danny said evacuate the people. Let’s do it.”

She nodded blindly, struggling to pull herself together. It was a testament of her will power and self-control that she managed it in only a few seconds. Of course, the screams from the people in the food court and the raking claws of the dragon might have helped a little.

“Didn’t we kill this thing already?” she asked Tucker as she searched through broken glass and strewn shopping bags for her purse. She found it three tables away beneath an overturned chair and dragged it out, opening the oversized bag and pulling out undersized weapons.

“Here, Tuck,” she said as she handed him his modified Fenton Lipstick. He uncapped it, glanced at the charge and nodded as she dug out an actual ectogun. It was fully charged, just like the lipstick was, much to her relief.

“You get the people out,” Tucker said with a wary glance at the dragon where it was starting to move sinuously towards the other people looking for all the world like they were tasty morsels best with ketchup. “I’ll distract the dragon, alright?”

“I’m faster,” she protested as he set the lipstick to max.

“I know, but once you have everyone out, you can get Danny. I don’t know as much as you about the medical end. And I think he probably needs all the help he can get,” Tucker admitted unhappily, because Danny hadn’t moved still.

Sam nodded, giving Tucker a tight squeeze of a hug. “Be careful, Tuck. And faster than you normally are.”

She was gone before he replied, her first target being Dash. He was a jerk, a jock, and an imbecile, but none of those were bad enough to merit him being eaten or trampled by the rampaging beast. She slid to a stop beside him, dropping into a crouch avoid kneeling in glass as she reached for his shoulder to give him a shake.

“Dash, come on,” she said as she heard Tucker yelling for the dragon’s attention on the opposite side of the food court. She ducked when the tail came through the air above them, cursing and wishing for all the world she could smack Tucker in the head.

There were other people who weren’t as lucky, but Sam couldn’t spare them much sympathy as she twisted her head towards the pained sounds of people falling. “Everyone, move. Get out of here. Go!” she instructed them in a tone that would make drill sergeants weep with envy.

It worked, or maybe just the fact that there was no dragon contemplating eating them, because the dozen or so bystanders she could see still in the middle of the chaos began scrambling to their feet. Glass had cut them, she could see bloody strips and streaks as they turned tail and raced away. She only hoped none of the wounds were too serious.

She turned back to Dash’s prone form, leaning down to get a better look at him and try once more to shake him awake. He groaned this time and she stopped shaking him the moment his eyes began to open. “Damn it, Dash. Get your ass up, we have to move before that thing eats Tucker and comes after us!”

“Manson?” he asked blearily. She was reminded forcibly of the first time the three of them had battled the dragon. Dash had been hurt then, too. Christ, this was so messed up.

“Yes, Sam Manson,” she hissed out, trying to ignore the way glass danced on the floor as the dragon roared a hundred feet away in swift pursuit of Tucker. “Get. Up.”

Dash blinked and started to crawl to his knees. She gave him credit for not making a sound as glass sliced his hands. He must have been unconscious from the moment crashed through the ceiling, she realized. “Be careful,” she admonished belatedly, sliding her arms around one of his beefy biceps and helping him haul his way upright.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” he demanded. “Did Fenton hit me?”

She rolled her eyes as she tugged him in the direction everyone else had fled or was fleeing. “No, Dash, Danny didn’t hit you. The fucking dragon from Halloween is back. It crashed through the roof.”

He hissed out in shock, his eyes finally looking around until the lit on the dragon, widening. “It was dead! I watched you guys kill it!”

“No kidding,” she replied, tugging harder. They slipped and nearly went down, but Sam caught her footing in time, one hip smacking a table in her effort to stay upright. “It’s a ghost, must have regenerated. Now come on,” she demanded, this time tugging his arm hard enough to jostle them both into the table.

He still didn’t come, and she bit back a growl of frustration, desperate tears beginning to build at the corners of her eyes. “Please, Dash,” she pleaded. “Danny’s hurt and I can’t go get him until you’re out of here.”

Like a light flickering on Dash straightened, his feet under him and the haze around his mind clearing. This time when he looked around Sam could see him understanding everything he saw, from Tucker throwing empty trays at the giant dragon to Danny’s still unmo0ving form by the stone planter.

“I can help you,” he said. “I’ll distract the thing, otherwise Foley’s gonna get killed.”

The rejection was on the tip of her tongue, a habit of years long standing. This was Dash Baxter. He didn’t just help people. He was a bully, a jerk who delighted in tormenting kids smaller and weaker than he was. He wasn’t selfless, he wasn’t decent at all.

Except for the fact that maybe he was, at least just a little.

Sam nodded. “Thanks,” she got out past the sudden lump in her throat. “Be careful.”

He nodded and in a flash, he was gone, darting across the debris with a grace the belied his size. She almost laughed in disbelief. Apparently, football could be good for something. Then he started yelling at the dragon and hefted a chair to throw. He had more power behind it and better aim than Tucker could ever hope for. It hit the dragon just behind one its wings and the creature turned to its new target.

She didn’t bother watching after that, just prayed that Dash wasn’t going to get killed for helping them out. Then she pushed the thought and the fear to the back of her mind and headed for the cracked stone planter and Danny.

Except when she got there, he was nowhere to be seen.

The pain was what woke him, though Danny was fully aware of the screaming roars of the dragon and the way the floor shook with each move it made. The ribs he’d feared cracked were definitely broken now; it hurt to just breathe in, a stabbing pain with each inhale. But he’d had years to learn to ignore things like that, to work through it.

His head was a different matter. There was blood when he touched the back of his head, it dotted his fingers brightly. When he looked at it the edges of his vision went gray again, forcing him to close his eyes and breathe for a moment before trying to move again.

He was dimly aware of Tucker’s yelled taunts in the distance, but he ignored these, too. He needed to get out of sight, get somewhere where he could safely shift to Phantom. It was their only hope of winning this, he thought. Especially since they’d obviously failed to win it properly as humans.

There weren’t many people left when he looked around, and the handful that were still there were in full retreat. The need to protect them nearly overruled his desire to hide and shift and Danny had to make a conscious effort to not jump to his feet and race after them. Putting himself in harm’s way when they were probably as safe as anyone could be running away wasn’t going to help them, or himself.

He’d probably killed doing that, and then Sam would have to kill him again for being a complete idiot.

Instead he shifted to his knees, and then his feet, staying low and ignoring the original slices from the falling glass and the newer ones from getting moving. The best thing to do would be to get over one of the counters, hide behind them and get down to business there. The nearest was the Steak Escape where he’d forked over eight bucks and change no more than a half hour before.

The irony of it made him grin dementedly as he darted for it, one hand clutching his side and the other outstretched ready to steady him if he slipped. He didn’t, taking a dive across the counter and hitting the floor with a bone jarring thud.

A glance around confirmed that no one was there, and he wasted no time in reaching out to his ghost half. Light bent brightly around him for a split second and as quickly as it came it was gone leaving Danny Phantom breathing raggedly on his hands and knees.

Another second’s worth of pause left Danny to feel his ribs shifting, realigning and starting to knit. The sensation was disturbing, but he was grateful that whatever part of him had kicked in on that was working so well. He could deal with cuts and a little blood loss. Breathing and moving freely were about to become a lot more important.

Invisibility drifted across him like a cool blanket as Danny lifted into the air. His legs melded together as he headed across the food court to Sam. She looked scared, but a little relieved at the same time. He only realized that she was ducked behind the same planted he’d been thrown into when he settled next to her, reappearing without a thought, eyes locked on the massive crack through the stone.

“Sam,” he whispered, though he could have yelled and probably not attracted the dragon’s attention just yet.

She turned with a gasp, violet eyes wide before she flung herself around. “Oh god, Danny, I was so scared.”

“Sh,” he soothed her, one hand stroking down her back as he pressed a kiss to the hair on the side of her head. “I’m alright. I’m going to take care of this. I need you to go find my parents. Call them, tell them to get here yesterday. Especially my mom.”

She pulled back, nodding. “Dash is out there with Tucker, so be careful with what you say.”

He grinned at her. “I’m just going to get them out of there before I get to work. Now go, hurry.” He shifted back to invisible before she could move and darted back up into the air.

Tucker was closest, and in more danger at the moment, than Dash, so Danny headed to him at top speed. He caught the technogeek around the waist, his arm hitting the other boy hard enough to knock the wind out of him as he let the invisibility trickle across to cover Tucker, too.

At the loss of its prey the dragon roared again. He spared a glance at it, the jaws gaping wide and sparks flying in the back of its mouth before it sent out a tongue of flame that charred where Tucker had been. It only took Danny a moment to realize the monster had been toying with Tucker, at least to an extent. And Dash, too, since all it needed to do was toss some fire their way to end their annoyances quickly.

That disturbed him almost as much as its continued existence. He wasted no time in heading for Dash. The only way he could guarantee the jock’s safety was if he got him out of the line of fire, literally, before the dragon decided to vent its ire on him.

Dash was sturdier and Danny didn’t feel very sanguine about holding on to Dash the same way as he did Tucker. He settled for snagging one of the jock’s arms, hoping that the pop he felt as he jerked Dash into the air wasn’t something coming out of socket. He pushed the blanket of invisibility over Dash, too, and headed straight up.

The roof probably wasn’t the safest place, but Danny didn’t want to head too far away in case the dragon decided to head back out through the hole it had created on the way in. He dropped his dual burden next to the nearest roof access, giving them both a once over before turning to the door to melt the lock so they could escape through it.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said in his best hero imitation before shoving Dash at the door. Danny was grateful that Dash wasted no time in opening it and rushing down into the blackness of the stairwell. Tucker didn’t, though, turning to him with a worried look.

“Be careful,” was all he said.

Danny nodded. “Sam’s already out. She’s getting my parents. I think I might need their help on this one.”

It was Tucker’s turn to nod. He turned and headed into the stairwell, pausing to glance back at Danny. “Just… Good luck.”

Danny didn’t bother replying as Tucker disappeared after Dash, his attention turning back the infuriated bellows coming from what was left of the food court. He just took to the air again, nimbly flipping through it as he dove back through the gaping jagged glass lined hole of the ceiling.

The dragon was still there, red scales gleaming, tongues of flame licking out of its mouth highlighting the red-gold scales at all of the points of its head. Too large claws were gouging jagged furrows in the tile and concrete that it sat on.

Danny took in a dozen more details in the heartbeat it took him to get back inside, each one of them being juggled away from where he was trying to find a strategy. The problem was, he wasn’t sure what kind of strategy to use on a ghost like this. It was nothing like Eragon or Dora, for all that it was a dragon as well.

But there was the silver lining in all of it. There was no one around. No innocent bystanders or story crazed reporters hoping to be the ones to catch his success or failure for ratings. There was absolutely no one that he had to protect, nothing to keep safe barring himself.

The smile that spread across his face was vicious. There was no one around; Danny Phantom could fight however he wanted.

He decided to go for the straightforward approach. Stupid, but so much more satisfying. And it had the added bonus of always pissing off whoever he was fighting with, and experience had taught him that pissed off opponents tended to screech information that would have better served not being shared. And again, so much more satisfying. There was something just so great about going to town on deserving bad ghosts.

The first ectoblast was aimed for one of the wings. It seared a hole straight through before smashing against the burnished red scales of the dragon’s side in a manner that made Danny think of fire licking along them before the green energy dissipated completely. The dragon shrieked, the familiar sound of mixed pain and anger reverberating off of the concrete walls.

“Over here, you overgrown lizard,” Danny tainted from a dozen feet behind its head.

The triangular head whipped around, flames already jetting forth as it moved towards him. He wasn’t sure how an ectoshield would hold up under the barrage, or an ice shield either, but he was willing to bet that the two combined probably had the best chance for keeping him from learning what fried chicken felt like.

It cracked under the pressure but held, and when the flames died down Danny flew straight at the dragon’s head, passing through it with a chill to float behind it once more. “Still here,” he called. This time when the head turned around, flames once more already ready, Danny was in a decent position to get a good hit in.

His ice encased fist connected solidly with against the tip of its snout. The ice shattered, his hand smarting inside his glove with the impact, but damage was done. The dragon howled, as it reared back, little rivulets of black-green blood trickling from the thin skin around it’s nostril where shattered ice had gouged into it.

 _Note to self,_ he thought smugly. _The nose is a good target._

He didn’t hang around in the air to find out, already anticipating the claw that was slicing towards him. But there was no one around and he sure as hell wasn’t trapped by expectations of being merely human. He laughed darkly as he slipped back into intangible, darting down beneath the claw to sweep underneath the dragon.

More ectoblasts flew into wings as he did, searing them in a half dozen places. The edges of the burns smoldered, black with char that shook off and down when the dragon screamed under the new attack. Intelligible speech seemed to escape it, the threats he had expects coming now in rasping snarls and guttural noises that sounded fairly frightening. But he was Danny Phantom, and he wasn’t frightened.

A moments effort created a blade of supernatural ice that matched the length and sharpness of the dragon’s claws. He closed in, the shimmering creation angled across his body as he did so. The first hesitant slash took the dragon across its breastplates, scoring a line there but not penetrating. He took a moment to look over the weapon before being satisfied that it wasn’t going to shatter under the pressure.

Then he went to work.

His first priority needed to be limiting its movement. He could fight the dragon in the sky, and he might even win. But Danny kind of doubted it, what with the fire and the claws and the tail that could probably break bone or even kill him. And he didn’t even want to contemplate what kind of damage and terror it could cause, having that kind of battle with this kind of enemy over his hometown. As he darted in again, he sent a silent prayer heavenward that the mall had really good insurance.

It took two tries to get close enough to take a shot at the wings. The first blow barely cut through the tough hide where the wing met the body, small scales deflecting the ice blade. The second blow, though, cut in deeply as he put his full strength behind it. He felt bone crack beneath his hands through the ice. The fleeting moment of satisfaction gave the dragon an opening to flail back, its pained roar like breaking glass and nails gouging steel in one.

One of the claws on the flailing hand caught him along the side that Dash had so recently pummeled, the partially healed ribs giving as easily as his flesh did. This time the pained scream was his own, the instinct to go intangible the only thing saving him from being sliced into two.

The blade was lost, sticking in flesh and bone as he went down. He hit the ground hard, tile and concrete cracking under the impact. He didn’t even try to breathe knowing it would be a lost cause, just rolled before a massive foot hit the ground where he’d been moments before.

He cursed as broken glass sliced into him, and the moment he thought he could get a clear shot back into the air, took the chance to flip to his knees, then feet and leap. Another quick burst of intangibility dislodged any glass that might have stuck, green and red blood dripping off him as well to spatter on the ruined flooring as he tried to make it past the dragon’s head.

He flew straight up into a searing gout of fire. Again, instinct saved him as ice burst from his pores to coat him in a thick layer of cold as he kept going. It melted off almost immediately under the pressure of the flames, but he was only wet once he was through, not burned or charred to a crisp. A moment later he had another ice blade in hand and was dropping on the dragon from above.

This one was fashioned more like a pike—an ice pick, the back of his mind supplied with wild laughter. He aimed for the expanse of body where long writhing neck met body. Danny hit it with a burst of surprise. He hadn’t actually expected to manage the feat, but the ice stabbed in for half of its four-foot length. Not enough to do any true damage, but the wound would pain the monster and maybe slow it down.

This time he was on top of the dragon when it roared, the wide body dancing with vibration beneath his feet. He lost his footing on the slippery scales and went down again, barely catching himself with flight before he hit the ground. The twisting motion made the gash along his side scream with pain, but the dragon was giving chase in a flash of brilliant crimson scales, its vicious golden eyes glowing malevolently.

Black-green blood dripped from where the ice sword still but the ichor seeping from around the ice pike sizzled where it hit the floor. Some part of Danny processed that as he fled, the memory of the burns Tucker had suffered after Halloween battle rising. The green blood must not be so acidic, so heated and burning, he thought. He’d need to be careful of that darker blood, he couldn’t risk getting burned too badly to finish this fight.

Even as he manifested another pike, turning to duck under the snapping jaws and drive it as far as he could into the dragon’s chest, his mind was still working. The disbelief that the dragon was here again after dying once gnawed at him, made Danny doubt that he could actually kill the thing.

The pike broke off only a foot deep. Danny slammed into the solid wall of scale, bouncing back and hitting the ground. Glass pierced and he gave an agonized scream as he forced his body intangible again, sinking through the ground to rise up half a dozen yards away. He panted with the pain. Blood seeped from dozens of cuts, and the gash along his side leaked bloody green ectoplasm as he floated there for a moment.

 _I don’t know if I can win this,_ he admitted silently to himself. He needed help. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he needed his parents. If they didn’t show soon, there was a good chance that he wasn’t going to survive this time.

Desperation made his brain click over, the intellect he inherited from his parents working even now. With a start he realized that the dragon wasn’t a ghost. He didn’t know what manner of being it was, but it wasn’t just a ghost.

Fuck. He’d just have to try and kill it again. And hope he didn’t get killed in the process.

This time the ice pike he created had serrations along the first foot. He hoped that maybe that would help him get deeper through the scales. He already knew from experience that his ectoblasts didn’t work so well on them, bouncing off or just lighting along the gleaming plates. He’d have to rely on the ice and whatever cunning and ruthlessness he could find within himself.

He stared at the dragon, weapon in one hand and the other clutching his wounded side. He could feel the bone of his ribs shifting, his own healing abilities working on them once again though it never sparked anywhere along his bleeding wounds.

The dragon glared at him viciously with its baleful gold eyes. “Ssstupid manling. I ssshall kill you, no matter what form of creature you are,” it declared, its sibilant voice a dark current between them.

He gave it an equally vindictive stare. “Not if I kill you first, no matter what the hell _you_ are.”

It laughed, the sound grating on his ears. “You cannot kill me, child,” it said. He only raised an eyebrow.

“Seemed to do it before.” He tried to sound confident, smug, even though the dragon was quite clearly standing before him, its thick black claws digging into the ground beneath it.

“And yet I am ssstill here.”

He frowned and resisted the sudden desire to flip it off. He doubted the dragon would understand the meaning of giving it the finger, but at the moment, he didn’t think even that bit of his usual bravado would do him any good anyway.

It chuckled at him; Danny twitched a little. “You ssseem ssso confusssed.”

Great, now it was mocking him. The first time it had really spoken to him, and it was mocking him. That was normally _his_ job. He shrugged a little, his fingers tightening on the ice weapon.

“Do not worry, manling,” it reassured him. “Sssoon you ssshall be dead. Your confusssion will be gone then.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so,” shot back.

It moved a second before he did, the wing that still work stretching out to menace him as it reared its head back, jaws open and sparks lighting in the back of its throat. Danny thought for a moment of trying to aim a throw of the serrated pike like a javelin, but he wasn’t sure of his ability to land the hit. Instead he wove to the side, his bloody hand coming up from his side with a roiling mass of bright blue and green growing in his palm.

The mix of ice and ectoplasm flew just before the flame began to spring forth, slicing through the center and straight into the dragon’s maw. It choked on the power, flesh smelling steam pouring from its mouth and nostrils as ice began to cover its teeth, from throat forward. “Ha!” The exultation escaped Danny before he could stop it, though he doubted he would have anyway.

While the dragon clawed at its throat Danny took to his heels racing for the dragon. _This is gonna hurt,_ he thought with a wince in the moments before he dropped to his knees, skidding across torn ground, broken glass, underneath the paler red belly scales. He jabbed the serrated edge upwards. It skipped and skimmed along the scales for a moment leaving a thin line of scratches in its wake before finding purchase.

The second he felt it catch he shoved with all of the strength he had. The spear caught and sank, a foot, halfway, then sinking in until thick black ichor began to rush down the length of the ice towards his hand.

Danny let go, his momentum broken but still moving. He turned it into a roll that brought him to his feet so that he could dart up and through the dragon, hands together to make another one of the jagged tipped pikes.

Time to be ruthless. The next one he jabbed into the haunch of the dragon, barely missing being hit by the tail as the creature shrieked and tried to claw the spear through its middle out. Danny couldn’t help but see that it was doing more damage to itself than the pike had done in the first place. Good, he decided, creating another one, and this time risking going under the working wing to shove it through scales. He was aiming for the heart; he missed. But the sudden wheezing from its chest told him he’d hit the lung.

He slipped away and made another one. He’d missed the heart, but maybe he was just on the wrong side. But try as Danny might, he couldn’t make it around the dragon. He settled for sparking the tip of the ice along the scales of the neck, sinking it into the gold tipped scales at its jaw.

Another one sprung into being almost immediately and he hurriedly thrust upward. This spear effectively nailed the upper and lower jaws shut. Danny hoped it would save him from fire as well as from the teeth.

And so it was again and again. The thick black blood was beginning to create a sludge, but Danny wasn’t constrained as he hovered above it, flying where he could to attack repeatedly. Spires of ice sprouted across the red scaled body, ichor pouring out until he could hardly tell what color its scales were without looking to its head or the long still dangerous length of its tail.

Danny was almost shaking with exhaustion now. It took so much to pierce the scales, even with the serrations that made it possible. He had to end it soon, he knew, otherwise there was still the chance he would get hurt badly as the dragon grew more and more desperate to save itself.

When he saw his chance, he almost didn’t take it. As he dove down, the last pike piercing a hateful golden eye, Danny shuddered with the force and with the memory of having done this very thing once before.

It ended faster this time, though, the dragon collapsing almost immediately. He rode the head down, hands still locked around the ice weapon, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he crouched atop the dead dragon’s head.

“Oh thank god,” he managed to wheeze out, finally letting go. He gave a pained groan as he sat down abruptly, his strength leaving him and pain rushing over him. His side was the worst, everything else was superficial. But the red in the green ectoplasm told him how serious the wound was, and how badly he mangled it fighting on as he had.

A sudden clattering behind him startled Danny back into the air, but the flash of orange and then teal made him sigh in relief. His parents. They were finally here. A little too late to really help, but hey, now he didn’t have to figure out how to clean the carcass up.

He reached around to his side and smeared the blood across his hazmat hastily before they could see him, hoping that the red would blend in with the black of his own hazmat to hide that evidence from them.

“Jack, Maddie,” he said weakly, hoping that he sounded nonchalant. Tired—exhausted—but nonchalant. And nothing at all like Danny Fenton.

“Phantom,” his mother greeted him warily. “Sam said you needed our help and—Didn’t Danny already kill that thing?” she exclaimed as she and Jack finally made it through the ruined tables they had been maneuvering through.

Danny laughed weakly. “Yeah. I guess it didn’t know enough to stay dead.” He tossed them a sketchy salute as he floated higher. “Try burning it this time, and maybe it’ll stay this way.”

He didn’t even wait for an answer before he slipped invisible and intangible. They might not take a potshot after what he’d just done for them, but Danny wasn’t sure enough to risk it. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait around regardless. Blinking tiredly, he flew up through the ruined ceiling and left his parents to clean up his mess.

It was hours before the furor around the mall died down. They had no idea where Danny was, but the idea that he was waiting till it was safe to reappear was foremost in their minds as Sam and Tucker waited in her room for him to finally show. It was after dark and Sam was beginning to think something was wrong when he finally slipped through her wall to wearily collapse on the floor against it.

“Danny,” she breathed and went straight to him.

Tucker, who’d been dozing, bolted upright as she said Danny’s name and flipped himself around and off of her bed. His breath hissed out in dismay. “Did you win?”

Danny gave them both a weak grin. “You should see the other guy,” he joked.

Sam scowled but even Tucker could see her heart wasn’t in it. She began checking him over with startling efficiency while Tucker gave him the damage report.

“There were a lot of superficial injuries from the glass,” he started, watching Sam with morbid fascination as she began carefully tugging Danny’s t-shirt off. The startled gasp of pain bit the air between the three friends as Danny winced and phased the shirt off. “Christ, Danny, what happened?” was Tucker’s first response, the sight of so much blood disrupting his train of thought.

“It clawed me,” was the groaned response. A second later, almost as an afterthought, Danny added, “And lots of broken glass.”

Tucker shook his head. “You’re definitely the worst injury by glass,” he told his friend. “There are a few broken bones, but nothing that won’t heal up and none of those were on kids or old people, so there shouldn’t be any complications.”

“And how many information systems did you hack into to learn all of that?” Danny asked wryly as Sam’s fingers danced along the edges of the large bleeding cut along his ribs. He winced but otherwise didn’t move.

“Just the police department and the hospital,” Tucker informed him with an eye roll. “And Dash thinks Sam got you out, by the way, so if for some insane reason he talks to you about this at school, that’s your story.”

“Shit,” Danny hissed out as Sam leaned back with a frown.

“That needs stitches, Danny. I think you should go to the hospital,” she murmured as her eyes slid down the length of his legs noting the bloody patches at his knees and running down his shins.

Danny shook his head. “Staple it. We have the stuff,” he ordered. “I can’t afford to show up at the hospital with this. My parents saw the same thing on Phantom.”

Tucker paled. “But Danny, we don’t have anything to numb it.”

“I’ll live,” was his terse reply.

Sam made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat and then began tugging at Danny’s shoes while Tucker left to search out the medical supplies secreted in Sam’s massive walk-in closet. It had taken months of careful pilfering from the hospital to stock half of the things Sam had, and a great deal of money for the rest. Short of surgery Tucker figured they could take care of just about any injury that arose.

But Tucker never really thought that they’d use them. It was just… a precaution.

He tried not to be sick as he gathered up gauze, tape, the disposable sterile packaged staple guns, and iodine. Danny was going to be absolutely miserable for the next hour, at least. Tucker didn’t envy him for it as he came back and dropped everything carefully next to Sam. She was just tugging off Danny’s other shoe and sitting it down as he did.

“Come on, Danny,” she said quietly. “I need to see whatever you did to your legs.”

Danny shot Tucker a helpless blue-eyed glance, but Tucker only shrugged. Danny gave in to the inevitable and phased his jeans off. Tucker was immediately grateful that Danny was experienced enough to lose his pants without losing his boxers. But the momentary amused relief passed as he saw the dozens of cuts lining Danny’s shins and the gouges on his knees.

“Glass?” he asked. Danny nodded.

“Tucker,” Sam turned to him. “Go to my mom’s bathroom. She’s got Vicodin the medicine cabinet. Bring the whole bottle.”

He may have shuddered at the thought of going in Mrs. Manson’s bathroom, but he wasted no time in fetching Sam the pills. Though he did wonder why the Manson’s had separate bathrooms—there had been absolutely nothing manly in the one he retrieved the painkiller from.

“Here,” he said as he returned holding out a plastic cup he’d filled with water and the already opened bottle. Danny took the glass and let Tucker shake four of the pills out.

Once they were gone Sam set to work with a brutal efficiency that left bits of Tucker shriveling with fear. His legs were soaked with the iodine first eliciting pained sounds from their friend. Afterward Tucker helped Sam carefully wrap gauze around the wounds. They would probably close up before Saturday night, the twenty-four-hour turnaround slower than usual, but Tucker figured that Danny’s side would probably take the lion’s share of his healing faculty.

They worked in silence as Danny’s eyes began to slip closed, the pills taking effect as Sam pick and chose with the smaller injuries until Danny looked fully drugged. Then, with a glance at Tucker, he watched her pick up the first staple gun, opening it with shaking hands.

He decided he never wanted to remember the hour and a half that followed. He expected that he’d probably be sick every time he saw a stapler at school for at least the rest of the semester, if not the school year. Even under the influence of four Vicodin Danny had winced and nearly shuddered with every closure Sam made.

But it was done, Danny was patched up, and Sam had him tucked into her bed. Tucker was pretty sure his best friend was unconscious before his head even hit the pillow. Fortunately Tucker had the technology in his PDA to mimic Danny’s voice electronically, and while Sam took care of making sure Danny’s bandages were still secure and the staples weren’t pulling Tucker took care of his parents who were, once again, dealing with a giant dead dragon.

When their mutual tasks were done, they met in the middle with tired sighs of their own. Sam looked down at the bloody gauze still by her wall with distaste and Tucker gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’ll take care of it, Sam. Just sit with him. I know you want to,” he said, turning it into a gentle tease.

She did while he gathered the garbage and took it to her bathroom to drop it in the trash. As he did, he stumbled over the empty condom wrapper dropped next to it and blushed bright red. “Oh god,” he laughed as he dropped the gauze in.

With a wicked smile he called through the open door, “Hey Sam, I didn’t know you were a Trojan girl.”

The almost shrieked, “Tucker!” was enough to make him laugh out loud. Yes, his work was done here.


End file.
